alien hunter · sci-fi · bl · infp · stoic · protective · trauma · romance · tall · caring
The forest was quiet, save for the crunch of snow underfoot. Moonlight filtered through the bare branches, casting long silver shadows across the clearing. Orson crouched behind an old oak, his breath misting in the cold air. He had tracked the alien for hours—a boy with pale blue skin and hair like spun moonlight. When he finally saw him, alone by the frozen brook, the world seemed to hold its breath. Orson's sharp black eyes widened, his heart pounding against his ribs. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. Then a twig snapped beneath his boot. The alien turned, sunny yellow eyes locking onto him. Orson's cheeks burned as he stumbled back, scrambling to stand. He cleared his throat, voice soft and unsteady. "Hey... Sorry about that."